A Night at the Parrot Club
by MintIceTea
Summary: Hizashi has a night out planned. Unfortunately, Shota does too.


Shota taps on his phone, starting the next video in the playlist. He slumps lower in his sleeping bag, his annoyance at having to wait softening slightly as another compilation of cat vines began on his phone. He cracks a smile at a clip of a cat looking like he was DJ-ing. Just as he considers sending it to Hizashi, the man in question bursts into the staff room. Singing in English at a volume that was just below obnoxious.

" **Date night toniiiiight! Gonna go out, get some food – have a few drinks! Forget the essays for a little biiiit**!"

The tune sounded familiar, even though Shota could only identify a few words. And honestly – after knowing Hizashi for fifteen years, most songs sounded familiar whether he has actually heard them or not.

Shota's music trivia knowledge is… vast. If only that were useful or impressive in any way.

"Oh, hey, Eraser! What are you still doing here?" Hizashi drops into his chair, causing it to roll and bump into Shota's chair. He huffs in complaint, and Hizashi pets his cheek in apology. The leather of his gloves warm and soft against his skin. Shota leans into the touch for a moment before responding.

"Waiting for Nemuri. She's helping me with a sting tonight."

"Oh? Oh!" Hizashi snaps his fingers, and Shota mourns the loss of his hand on his cheek. "For that human trafficking ring you've been working on?"

"Yeah." Shota waggles his phone, even though he had let it fall asleep. "The precinct I'm working with has another subject that they think…buys locally. Just need audio recording of him making a 'purchase' and we can take him in for questioning. Even if it is only for prostitution."

Hizashi nods, but his brow furrows. "That seems like something the actual police force would take care of – does he have a dangerous quirk?"

"Mm. Some of the dancers that work at the club he frequents seem to lose memories after talking with him." Shota leans back, the chair squeaking at the movement. "I thought it'd be best to have bait that I knew could handle themselves."

"You're making Midnight the bait? I'd think she'd make a better pimp than you, honestly."

"Well, I'm certainly not a tempting purchase." Shota snorts, making a vague gesture at himself, still wrapped up in his sleeping bag, his stubble only days away from being a full beard.

"I dunno, I'd buy you in a heartbeat." Hizashi waggles his eyebrows, making an exaggerated show of looking Shota up and down. "Keep you up aaaaalll night long."

"Shut up." Shota can't help but laugh, a bit of a flush stinging at his ears. He was about to remind Hizashi of all the sleepovers where Hizashi's snoring kept him up - but the staff room door opens again and Nemuri walks in.

"Sorry for the wait!" She sighs, stalking over to her desk and gathering up her bags. "I totally forgot I had that meeting."

"It's fine." Shota clicks on his phone to check the time. "I'd rather be at the club before he gets there though."

"I'm honestly jealous that Midnight is the one who finally gets you to go to a club." Hizashi pouts at Shota, but his eyes are teasing. He stands and stretches. "Well, I got to run by the station before this evening, so I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Oooh!" Nemuri perks up, her annoyance at her own tardiness fading at the hint of gossip. "Got a hot date? What is this, first, second, or-" she gasps, placing a hand to her chest - " _third_? Do tell!"

Shota scowls, he hadn't wanted to think about that subject, and now it was impossible not to with the way Nemuri was leaning over him. Hizashi's long list of suitors wasn't near as bad as it had been when they were younger. Most likely attributed to the fact that Hizashi was juggling three jobs. But the sting of jealousy was still familiar enough, bubbling in Shota's stomach.

"Nemuri we don't have time for this." Shota growls, hoping neither of them would point out that he had just said they had time. "We need to run by the precinct to meet with Detective Abe."

"Alright, alright." She leans back, pointing at Hizashi. "But you and I will be discussing this tomorrow, okay?"

" **Yes ma'am**!" Hizashi chirps, his hand gently dropping onto Shota's head and smoothing his hair back. "Hey, be careful okay? Text me when you're home?"

"Okay, mom." Nemuri and Shota both chime, earning a sour look from Hizashi as he leaves. But Shota appreciates the concern. And he knew that if he didn't text, Hizashi would call until he answers. It was routine now. As soon as Shota gets home from patrol he sends a text – usually not saying more than 'home'. But he always gets a reply, even if Hizashi is hosting his show.

It's a selfish kind of happiness, knowing that Hizashi will worry until he assures him he's alright.

"Next time ask Yamada out instead of just pining over him like a schoolboy." Nemuri interrupts his thoughts, tapping him with a folder before shoving it in her bag. "You both are so smitten with each other it's ridiculous."

Shota scowls and hopes he's not blushing.

–-

"Call him."

"No."

"So, what. Where are we gonna find someone that is willing to put himself at risk, last minute I remind you, and you _actually_ want to work with?"

Shota scowls, already uncomfortable in the ridiculous jacket that serves as his undercover outfit. Nemuri crosses her legs, sitting on his countertop.

"C'mon Shota. He's got the leather pants already, and I know he's got at least one crop-top that would look slutty enough." Nemuri gives him a knowing look. " _And_ you get to ruin his date."

"Who says he'll ditch his date for us?"

" _Oh please_. He'll do anything for you." Neurmi looks disgusted with his easy dismissal. She pulls out her phone, long nails tapping quick across the screen. She comes over and drops down onto the sofa beside Shota. He can see that she's got the phone on speaker, dialing Hizashi. He frowns, but he has to admit that Hizashi is the best option. Any other heroes that would be willing to help out at last minute would be a bit of a wild card if things go south. Shota knows how to work with Hizashi.

Hizashi answers, loudly and in English as usual. " **Hey! What's up!** "

Shota sighs and seeing that Nemuri makes no attempt he greets - "Hizashi."

"Shocchan? What's wrong?" Hizashi's voice immediately drops into a serious tone. "Aren't you on your sting? Is everything okay?"

"Not quite," Nemuri answers, a grin across her face. "Have you left for your date yet, Yamada?"

"About to walk out of my place, what's wrong?"

"We've run into a problem for our operation." Nemuri's amusement is palatable and annoying so Shota cuts her off.

"Hizashi. Remember when I lost a villain because I had to come to the hospital and erase the quirk that made you grow feathers? And you said that you'd owe me a favor?" He hears Hizashi swallow hard. "I'm calling it in. Meet us at my place as soon as you can. Nemuri will text you what to bring."

Shota hangs up the phone and hands it back to Nemuri. "Ask him to bring his hair stuff. And maybe his contacts."

When Shota opens the door to Hizashi he's immediately barraged with questions. He ignores them, leading Hizashi towards the bathroom. Hizashi pauses in the doorway when he sees Nemuri standing in front of the bathroom counter. An extensive array of makeup laying out before her.

"So, uh, what's the problem?"

"The problem," Nemuri starts, "is Pimp Shota's client. All we need is him to agree to buy. But we need to make sure we have what he wants in stock."

"Which is?"

"A blonde twink."

Hizashi squints at her and Shota snorts. Nemuri's lips twitch upwards and she elaborates. "I don't have the equipment that he requested. He's under the impression that Shota can cater to all sorts of clients."

"Ah. So, you're using me." He offers the bag of things they requested her bring. "I should've known."

"Yep." Neumri digs through the bag with glee, tossing him his pants. "Put these on and we'll get started."

Shota stands in the doorway feeling awkward. He's about to offer to help with Hizashi's hair – he can't style it, but he can at least make it less… well kept – when he hears ringing in the other room.

"Shit!" He turns and darts towards the cell phone. Before answering it he hears Nemuri explain to Hizashi that it's the phone that the precinct gave him for this operation. Meaning that it's the target calling him.

It's not the best call, the target is moving up the meeting by an hour, though he thankfully doesn't try to change the location again. As soon as the call ends Shota calls up the club. The foul-tempered owner complains and curses, but agrees to the change of plans.

When he steps back into bathroom Hizashi is sitting on the closed toilet lid. Now dressed only in his black leather pants. His glasses are missing, instead he's wearing his colored contacts. His hair is pulled into a low ponytail with some kind of ribbon.

It's more than a bit distracting.

Hizashi notices him staring and gives him an amused smile. "Well? What do you think?"

"You'd make a decent prostitute."

"Uh, I'd make an _amazing_ prostitute," Hizashi corrects. Sitting up straighter in offense, despite Nemuri shrieking at him to stay still.

"I'm so glad you haven't gotten a full sleeve yet," she mutters as she pushes him back down. "This is a pain."

"Sorry, sorry, but no self-respecting human trafficker is going to take someone with such obvious tattoos." Hizashi huffs but stills so she can continue to cover them up with an absurd amount of concealer.

"'Self-respecting'," Shota snorts. In attempt to distract himself from Hizashi's bare chest he turns his attention back to the plans for the evening. "He's got manners I suppose, he paid for a private room at the club. Nemuri."

"Hmm?"

"I called Mr. Devine, he said if you get there early and go through the back he'll have you set up as a waitress."

"'Devine'?" Hizashi questions, his attention grabbed by the English name.

"He's the owner of the club we're meeting at." Shota's exasperation shows on his face. "He's… eccentric." He sees a smile creeping across Hizashi's face. "What're you so happy about?"

"I finally get to take you out to a club." Hizashi eyes gleam teasingly. Shota snorts. It's disconcerting to see the familiar expression in red instead of green.

Doesn't stop the stupid pleased feeling in his chest though.

"Aren't you glad you finally got me out to a club?" Shota says, his manic grin widens at Hizashi's pout.

"I didn't want to take you to a strip club!" The blonde whines. "Oh, **hey**! **Hands off**!" He pulls his hand from Shota's arm to swat away the drunken groper.

"Oi, keep it to yourself, you fuckin' shithead." A voice snaps, shoving the man back down into his seat. He looks at Shota and Hizashi with a scowl. "Eraserhead. Your fucking guest is in the gold room." He jabs his thumb down the hallway behind him. "Listen, the only reason I'm allowing this is because I don't want that kind of shitstain in my fucking club. But if this fucking sting of yours brings any unwanted attention to me - I will fucking kill you, dismember you, and use your innards as fucking christmas garland."

"Hey!" Hizashi starts in warning. Shota places his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Thanks, Mr. Devine. Send Midnight in with drinks in about fifteen minutes." The man, Mr. Devine, snorts and raises his hand as he turns, two fingers raised in a 'v'.

"That's the _owner_?" Hizashi hisses, following Shota down the hall. His arm looped easily with Shota's.

"He keeps this place surprisingly clean. None of the performers have ever been arrested for prostitution or drugs. This target is the first to manage to get by his screening, that's why he's willing to help us."

"But he runs this place? With that ugly suit? And that _haircut_?" Hizashi sounds horrified, twisting back to look and Shota elbows him.

"Complain later." They pause before the door. "Keep your mouth shut."

"You like my mouth."

At the sudden drop in tone Shota turns sharply. He's thrown off by Hizashi's dark eyes, heavy lidded and voice husky. Before he can ask what Hizashi thinks he's doing, Hizashi's brows furrow.

"What-"

"You're right on time." The door opens and a huge man fills the doorway, leering from beneath dark eyebrows. "Thought I was going miss out on meeting your friend. I asked for him specifically an' all."

"I had to cancel his plans for this, I hope it's worth our time." Shota leads the way into the room, pushing past their suspect and guiding Hizashi down onto one of the cushioned seats. Dropping down to sprawl next to him, he eyes the buyer suspiciously.

"Oh yes."

"Well," Shota drawls, running his hand down Hizashi's back, feeling him shiver at the touch. "He _is_ my favorite."

"I can see why." The buyer grins, and Shota's skin crawls. "I'll take very good care of him."

"I am rather reluctant to part with him though." Shota tugs Hizashi against him, a protective gesture that he's not sure is solely part of the act.

"Yeah. How much you want for him?"

Shota's grin widens. "How much are you offering?"

Hizashi rubs his eyes, the contacts are probably starting to hurt, and he doesn't notice Shota approaching until he drops down to sit on the curb next to him. Shota presses his eyedrops into Hizashi's hand. Hizashi snorts but tips his head back and drops a few drops in each eye. Hopefully it will soothe his eyes enough that he will last until they can get back to his glasses at Shota's place. He hands the bottle back, and Shota tucks it into his pocket.

"Everything all wrapped up?"

"Mm. Detective Abe wants the paperwork by tomorrow. But once Midnight finishes giving her statement we can go."

The sit in silence, absently watching the line of dancers – back in street clothes – head home for the night. Or morning at this point.

"Sorry for ruining your date night," Shota mumbles. Low enough that he's surprised that Hizashi hears him.

Hizashi turns, a smile creeping across his split lip at the sight of Shota's faint blush. "Eh, I dunno. This was a better date than drinks at Molene's. I've always wanted to take you out to a club."

"A strip club?" Shota asks dryly.

"No!" Hizashi elbows him for being difficult. "You know what I mean, Shocchan. An actual club. With drinks and dancing and some actual decent music."

"That sounds like a date." Shota's voice comes out far more bitter than he means, and Hizashi frowns.

"Is…that really a bad thing?"

"What?"

"I mean, they always say to date your best friend." Hizashi laughs, his voice rising a few notes. "That may be my problem, I never really know the people I go out with. I mean Kimura seemed nice, but he always looked a little overwhelmed by how loud I get." He waves his hand, not signing, just a nervous habit. "You know how to shut me up, and we already get food together at least once a week, and I mean, I already know I like you, so. **_Yeah_**. Would you like to go on an actual date with me?"

"Sure."

"What, seriously?"

Shota is offended at Hizashi's doubt. "Why are you surprised?"

"Um, because you turned me down when I asked you in high school? Remember? I sang ' **I want to hold your hand** ' to you in second year?" Hizashi turns, bumping their knees together, and Shota fights the urge to scoot back. Without his capture scarf Hizashi's face is just. So close.

"In front of everyone at lunch. I thought you were joking because only an idiot would say yes to that."

"But you're saying yes now, right?" Hizashi leans a little closer.

"I'm going to take it back if you start singing." Shota warns.

"Hey, Shota, can I kiss you?"

Shota knows he's flushing now. Hoping the darkness and flashing lights of the nearby cruiser hides it on his face. "No."

" **Boo**. After our date? I'll walk you home and everything."

"Hmm. Maybe."


End file.
